


BigGeek Headcanon's

by Big_Geek



Series: Headcanon's or AU's [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Assassin Lance, BAMF Lance (Voltron), BAMF everyone, BoM lance, CIA Lance, Depression, Female Lance (Voltron), Gen, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, Multi, PTSD, Ryou Shirogane, Secret Agent Lance, Son of Wonderwoman, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Mom Allura (Voltron), Time Travel, Twin Souls, Wingfic, car crash, guns and knives, sick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-24 23:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Geek/pseuds/Big_Geek
Summary: Headcanon's from this Tumblr blog; from the beginning to the present.From Altean!Lance to Assassin!Lance (mostly langst, seriously) to little bits of other stories I have made. All named each chapter, so it will be easy to find.I will update this work every time I have posted a new headcanon. To be honest, my early work was pretty shit, but anyway, if you have any prompts or suggestions, I'm open.Have fun.





	1. CIA Headcanon, 1-2

**Author's Note:**

> Now, you guys don't have to dig through the depths of my blog to find the posts I have made long ago. Your welcome.

# CIA HEADCANON

Lance has struggled his entire teenage life. 

At the age of thirteen we was living his only living relative that apparently was removed from the family years ago. Lance’s eldest brother, Cedro.

At first he seemed distant, which was fine, Lance was fighting off the nightmares and PTSD. But Cedro looked at him with pity, and unexpectedly, guilt. That part Lance didn’t understand.

Lance never knew Cedro. He was removed from the family when he was one. His only knowledge of his existence was the very few pictures stationed around his family home. He remembers asking his mother who he was when he was six.

“Who’s that mama?”

“That is that has person that left us Leandro”

“Like heaven?”

“No,”she laughed, honey-like and light “he left us for a reason we will probably never know”

“Oh…will I meet him one day” she shook her head.

“I don’t know”

Lance’s knowledge of his brother was very vague. Which was impressive considering he knew every name, every profession, every hobby of his massive family. 

But what he knew was that he dropped out of high school at fifteen and did a course in trade, had a fifteen year age gap to him and he was a genius. Lance needed more.

Lance confronted him when he got home after weeks of absence. The night was filled with yelling, anger and unanswered to Lance’s many questions. After hours of fighting Cedro broke.

That night was the night when everything he knew changed. What ever he knew of Cedro was turned to nothing and his view of his family shaped.

Cedro Marcus Rodriguez is a agent of the CIA

The Rodriguez family was the target, a way to get to Cedro. He removed himself from the family to protect us, like any other agent in the CIA. That wasn’t a trade course, it was training. He lied. 

He was the reason that Lance watched his childhood home explode in front of him, catching glimpses of burnt corpses of his family, parent, aunties, uncles, siblings. Cedro Marcus Rodriguez was the reason Leandro “Lance” Charles Rodriguez heart shattered into microscopic pieces and was unable to fix them again.

Lance retaliated. Yelling, crying, punching his chest until they turned soft and had no power behind them, Cedro took it, because deep down he knew he deserved. Cedro cried with him. By the end of the night they sleep asleep on the couch.

Lance learnt to adapt to his new schedule. Cedro would leave day to weeks at a time and would almost return home with a bullet wound or something broken. Every night he came home, Lance would sit on the kitchen table and listen to his action stories. Like a told James Bond movie. 

Lance met Cedro’s colleagues and they’re adored him (without (almost) breaking the intimidating, tough character) especially the female ones. Lance even managed to get a tour of the CIA mission control (Smuggled in, don’t tell the boss). Lance loved it.

Then Kerberos happened. Three astronauts, one pilot, two scientists. Lance was one of the first people to know what truly happened to the crew. Alien Abduction. Lance watched mission control lit up into a frenzy. Scientist to scientist creating theories. General to soldier. Orders going back and fourth. Cedro disappearing to the computers up front working his magic. 

Pilot Error was absolute bullshit. The one thing he didn’t approve the CIA of was their secrets. They knew aliens were real decades ago. Latest one was less than eighteen years ago, before disappearing completely from their radar. Last known location was in the desert (somewhere).

Lance remembers visiting Iverson at the Galaxy Garrison during his CIA internship (He doesn’t know how Cedro did it, but he’s grateful). During the CIA’s conversation with Cedro and his partner he slipped away from the abandoned corridor to spot Katie Holt slithering in the hallways. HIs perfect detective skills concluded that she was headed to Iverson’s office, she was suspicious of the ‘deaths’ of the Kerberos crew. Lance would not deny her that right.

Lance managed to distract the guard in front of his office before she reached it. It (unfortunately) didn’t last long and she got caught. 

Six months after the failure of Kerberos, CIA Kerberos Alpha came, stronger and so much faster than the first, number one. A unpublicised mission, requiring one CIA agent to collect data of the Alien Abduction. Cedro was chosen. They needed trained professionals fast, Cedro was their number one choose. Physically and mentally gifted. 

At sixteen and somewhat thirty, they were better. It was like Cedro was not never in their family. Lance remembers hugging him moments before Cedro was shot out to space. Goodbyes and take cares and “Lance no reckless stunts in the training room” or “Lance, try not to shoot Luke in the leg next time I see you” yeah…not his best moments. Everything was going to be okay.

Kerberos Alpha failed. Went missing two thirds of the way there. What Evers out there was coming closer. When it was announced Lance stormed into mission control and ask (demand) to know where he was. His only family. They denied him that. It took more than one CIA agent to throw him out of the building. CIA future notes: Don’t teach a kid spy skills if their not going to use them.

Now here was stuck in space with five mechanical lions, four other humans (sorry my mistake 3 and a half humans) and two aliens of a dead society. Stuck in the alias of Lance McClain, local idiot and not able to fight very well. And hoarding lots of guns and knives he had on him when they were forced into space.

Everyday is turning out to be a challenge. Harder and harder to maintain the facade every time the make a jab at his intelligence. He didn’t need this, he wanted his brother, and he’s going to find, with or without Voltron’s help.

### Part 2

“You okay there Lance?”

Lance jumped from his seat in the dining room, he hadn’t noticed that he had started nodding off in front of his goo. Blue eyes met the worried eyes of Space Dad himself, who managed to grab the attention of everyone at the table, and by everyone he means all the occupants of the Castle. Just his luck, he was trying to stay inconspicuous. 

Smothering the nerves that started to build up, like he was trained too, he stared back at everyone with his (fake) smile and carefree attitude.

“I’m okay. Just a little tired I guess” Lance sent a smile smile just in case, Psychology 101. He hated attention, absolutely hated it. Sometimes, he wishes he could be like Keith a brood all he wants. On another note, speak of the devil and it shall appear.

Keith scoffed, “What do you have to stay up for. Don’t you need your precious ‘beauty sleep’” and there it is. Lance inwardly sighed into his bowl of goo. He seems to that more often these days, it was usually his brother’s thing.

“I can stay up late if I want too Keith. Your not my mother. Sometimes,” Lance leaned back on his chair, crossed his legs and took a sip from his cup, “Lancey Lance here needs to improve his skills” I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. Just…keep up the act.

Keith chuckled and leaned back on his chair, arms crossed, “What skills? I never see you in the training room-” he had his mouth open for more insults, but Shiro cut him off.

“Keith, thats enough” His voice was stern and leader like, it was a painful reminder of what his brother sounded like when he got in trouble.

“Nah, it’s fine” Lance waved him off. Though, he did expect the other paladins to look at him like he grew a second head, ‘it wasn’t the Lance McClain way to back down from a fight, much less Keith’. “I’m going to bed anyway” With that note, he stood up to leave, everyone’s eyes burning into the back of his skull.

It was a miracle that he didn’t stab himself when he walked out. The sheaths sewed into the fabric of his jacket have been worn down and the tips of the knives are starting to puncture his skin. CIA and their ungodly fascination for knives. They made it a force of habit. One…he can’t break easily.

Then there were the pistols in the waistband on his baggy jeans, then the ammo in his jacket pockets, then the other knives in hidden straps (some in unsavoury places). It may be uncomfortable but it has saved his life more than once.

With the swoosh of the door, his retina’s were met with the worst bedroom in history. Paper. Data results. Photo’s. Stationary (or whatever what was on the ship). The lot, all strewed on the floor. He spent all the hours of the night cycle trying to find a lead. Only to come up empty handed. It was disappointing really.  
It was bullshit.

Anger boil in his gut. He hates this. Why did he go one that one man mission, then he wouldn’t be in this mess. Well, not that he doesn’t like Voltron, he loves it, it’s just he’s a stranger to them. They know Lance McClain, not Leandro Charles Rodriguez, the true him. Lance’s eyes shined with unshed tears. Tearing up was becoming more and more common lately, he ran out of antidepressants weeks ago. 

Flopping onto his unmade bed, he stared at the bland, grey ceiling. He wants his brother. The one that was practically his other half. His only family. Lance shifted when an awkward knife started poking him.

He has travelled millions of lightyears away from Earth, into the void that his brother disappeared too. And how long has he been in space? Months, without a fucking lead.

Feeling the same knife poke him in the back again, he sat up and ripped his jacket off. Trying to hold back the burning of tears, he took out everything in hidden compartments. Piling into a small mountain of ammo, knives and gadgets.

Throwing the jacket onto the mess on the floor he stared at the offending pile. It was his life. He signed up for a life of adventure, courage, bravery, not looking for his brother in the depths of space. This wasn’t suppose the happen, it never was for Christ sake. He took the pistols from the waistband of his pants and threw them down on the pile. He barely noticed the tear streaking down his face.

With a sigh, he turned to the one thing he worked for hours on.

There on the wall was the slowly growing board to figure out where the hell his brother went, even the data from Pidge he scoured. First it was everything that he had on his phone (the one without a tracking chip), from CIA profile to CIA Kerberos Alpha. Everything.

Then everything blared red.

“Paladins, a Galra fleet is approaching!” Allura yelled into the mic. Lance groaned and sat up onto the bed.

Grabbing his jacket, he dashed through the corridors.

If he stayed longer, he would have noticed the mice entering his room via the vents.


	2. Wingfic!Lance

Lance bit his lip. He knew what was to come. 

The blinding, searing pain that would explode in his back, and come in impulsive waves. His nerves screaming in unimaginable pain. Like every three months, he dreaded it. But he had to do it. To hide. To stay disguised in society, or at this moment in time, the small community on the Castleship. In Team Voltron.

Never go through those experiments again. By-by those beasts called scientists.

His hand gripped the sword he picked up from training room, the leather like material worn from the (probable) years of use. From the force he was holding it, he wouldn’t be surprised if he made an hand imprint. 

Well, it wasn’t like anyone else was going to see it. He hid it under mattress, the blade sheathed, of course.

The beating of his heart was deafening, his lungs expanded and shrunk quicker with the desperate inhale and exhales of air, the beginnings of a panic attack (and it wasn’t his first), sweat glistened on his tan skin, and most of all, his half of the expected adult sized brown and hazel wings on his back fluttered in nervousness.

They were small, frail. 

From keeping them binded in the ace bandages and small of the last cutting the previous three months, before space, when he had what he needed.

If you asked if he was scared, he would reply with a hasty “yes”. 

Lance has been doing this for years, when he escaped, when he came home to his biological family, when he went to the Garrison. He should be used to this, but after all he went through he still isn’t. Again, he is chopping off millions of nerves. Well, at least he can managed to get his screaming down to a minimum.

Blue eyes focused on the items on the sink in his conjoined bathroom. An icy like goo. Pidge had developed it a few weeks ago, thinking it could be used against the Galra to temporarily disable them. 

In Lance’s opinion, that’s not it’s only purpose. It could be used to temperately close the wound while he focused on the next wing.  
Next to the goo was the blowtorch from Coran’s toolbox. To close the twin, profusely bleeding, open wounds. It would scar, sure. But, it would join the multiple years of scars on his toned back.

His wings flopped on his back, like a small cape, before the left one opened right up. Shaky, from it’s lack of muscles that he had to instinctively develop. 

He fought the slowly defending wing as the sword in his hand grew heavier. Like he was about to cut off an arm, or a leg. In his view, it wasn’t far off.

Without this system, he was freak. A freak of nature.

He closed his eyes as the he lifted the sword, gripped tighter (if possible) as if it would slip from his sweaty grip. His wing wide open, as if it awaiting death. He drew in a shaky breath, he lifted the sword higher. His body feeling the dread he would feel the scientist cut off his wings and do it over and over again every time it grew back.

Back then, in that unsterile cage, he wondered what it would feel like for the wind to fly under his floating body, the wind rushing through his flight feathers,

(Or the feeling of his tail feathers taking sharp turns around tall sky scrapers or the feeling of them twist and turn and he did complicated manoeuvres in the air, movement from his lower back)

He’s never felt that, and he probably never will. He learned quick to forget that, so he joined the Garrison. A cheat.

His heart pounding on his ribcage deafening the silence, his lips counting down.

“3…”

He would be normal, somewhat. Still have the Team in the dark about his true self.

“2…”

In order to do that, he would have to clean the bath of blood he would leave. It wouldn’t be any different than doing it in his uncles barn.

“1…,″

With a jolt, he swiped downwards with all the force he could muster. You could almost hear the sword whistle on its descent.

A dead wing flopped to the ground lifelessly in a mangle of blood, feathers and thin flesh.

The fresh, warm blood, spilt all down his back, spreading like a spiders web. The air tinged metallic. Nothing to worry about, it was normal.

Lance opened his eyes to his pale form in the large mirror. His current wing still flopped downwards in a half a cape, or mourning its sister. His tears continued fall down his face.

He was freak.

He will always be a freak.


	3. PROJECT KURON

“L-L-Listen to-to me-”

Lance shot up in a cold sweat, his breathing laboured and anxiety brewing in his stomach. His back arched when he greedily inhaled air, his hands grabbing at the sweat-damp, altean sheets. 

Shiro’s name on the tip of his tongue as his dry mouth demanded water. Conflicting emotions swirling in his mind. It was screaming PROJECT KURON. In big red letters and the Kill Bill sirens sounding in the distance. He coughed to the side as Blue and Red sent reassurances, equal worry running through their systems.

Surprisingly, Black joined the half of the pride chuffing in his mind. Now everything made sense. The comments, the actions, the astral plane. He isn’t Shiro. 

“Listen to me Lance-”

Lance pushed himself off the bed, stumbling to the adjacent bathroom, the automated door opening with ease as he dragged his feet into the two by two meter room.

HIs lungs burned for fresh, cool oxygen. Which was funny, because; they were in space. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand as he leaned against the sink. Relishing the cool feeling the metal gave. 

“-you have to find me-”

He watched himself in the mirror. His spine chilled as he remembered the horror movie vibes he watched at the Garrison. He was more than ready to see yellow eyes flashing in that dark corner between the toilet and the shower. 

Lance flinched when he saw red drip from his nose.

“-I don’t have long! I’m weak as it is. You have to find me. Not anyone else. You!-”

He didn’t touch. His mind was too wild to process such things as to wipe blood off his face. Copper started to taste at the back of his mouth. 

Why? Lance asked himself. Why not perfect Keith. Smart Pidge. Amazing Hunk. Pining crush Allura. Even handy Coran. Why him?  
“-you have to be discreet. If they know. They’re going to activate him-”

Why have so much trust in Lance?

He spat out the copper into the sink below him. Crimson splattered onto the silver bowl. Blue orbs staring at it, numbness flooding his body. Mindlessly activating the faucet, watching red turn pink and twirl into the drain.

“-Black will help you!”

That was where it cut out. 

Already, he could feel his shoulders slump with imaginary weight. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that if Shiro’s ability is affecting Lance, it would be affecting Shiro. And by a stretch, possibly death.

Lance breathed and braced himself against the basin.

He can do this.


	4. Lance and Pidge Ageswap AU

###### Lance and Pidge age swap AU. Imagine the possibilities;

\- “Shiro?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m super tired, I don’t think I can train today. Can I go to bed?”

“Absolutely, you need all the rest you can get”

Keith, Hunk and Pidge looking on envious.

\- Lance experiencing what people call; Puberty.  
e.g. Voice cracking, (I’m female, so other manly growing processes?) etc. Coz late bloomer

\- Using Space dad and Space Mum to his advantages. Whilst the others look at him with hatred. 

-Having the power to jump on peoples back and those people not having the heart to tell him off.

\- The constant Space parent’s supervision. 

\- Being able to fit into small spaces (late bloomer). smol bean

\- Pranks galore.

###### [EDITS]

\- Absolutely everyone, from the stoic Blade of Marmora leader Kolivan to the dog-like Yupper Laika, are completely wrapped around his little finger.

\- Master manipulator and sly trickster that knows how to play people; Lotor, when he joins them, takes notes

\- Loves learning about alien cultures; from learning to speak and read Altean from Coran and Allura (the same with Galran from the Blade whenever they have meetings) to eating strange alien dishes on diplomatic missions, he wants to try it all

\- He names his first Chest Hair. Growth Spurt? This could actually be pretty angsty if Lance gets more impulsive than usual to prove himself. Then again, Lance ain’t that squishy, so there’s a possibility he acts pretty mature but Space Dad knows better and lets him be a kid every now and again.

\- Pidge is no longer “cute gremlin” she is “Savage Queen TM”

###### @langsty-mc-langstface

-Steals the too big clothes from the other team mates. At first their annoyed that their stuff is going missing then they find out Lance has it and no one really gets annoyed

\- if Lance starts crying then everything stops. He still tries to hide his emotions but his lip will stick out and his chin will wrinkle telling everyone he’s about to break at which point everyone jumps into action.

-No one gave him ‘The Talk’ Shiro finds this out when Lance asks an innocent question. As the leader he makes Hunk do it

\- Lance always sits in someone’s lap instead of just on the couch- When he gets hurt on missions the team goes into protective must kill mode (same as when somone flirts with him)

\- Allura and Coran freaked out when Pidge converted their ages for them. Coran really started babying Lance when he found out.

\- He is terrifyingly flexible

###### Story Prompt, by Anon

\- Okay but in that Lance and Pidge age swap thing imagine if blue gets hit by some ray and the team starts freaking out because Lance isnt responding but he sounds like he’s in pain so they finish the battle really quick and as they’re all landing back in the hangar Lance is like can I get some help in here and then he goes into a coughing fit so they all run over and find him sitting curled up on the ground in blue and he’s like I think something wrong and whoa his voice is deeper what’s going.

What’s going on and then he’s groaning again because spontaneous growing pains suck and the team still hasn’t really realized what’s going on they’re all too concerned and either Hunk or Shiro go to pick him up to get him to a pod but Lance is like yeah that’s not gonna work and starts to unwind himself and the team is like ?? Legs ?? Because Lance definitely isn’t 15 anymore how did this happen and when he finally gets upright he almost sends himself straight back down because he’s taller than all of them and they all start to freak out again because this can’t be happening and yeah a bunch of hijinks featuring magically older Lance ensue for the next week or so till the magic wears off.

Lance: *about to get out of training again* 

Keith: he’s just as old as us now! 

Pidge: yeah how come he can get out of this shit still?! 

Lance: ~quietly~ excuse me did your body grow two feet within a matter of minutes ? No ? Cool. 

Shiro: go rest lance you’ve been through a lot 

Lance: :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free the comment new scenarios below or on the blog. 
> 
> Big Geek
> 
> https://biggeek2351.tumblr.com


	5. Assassination Classroom Crossover

Lance spat onto the sandy ground. Saliva mixed with crimson as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The metal taste still in his mouth as he raised his fists again. 

Blowing away his blue streak of hair out of his eyes as he stared down his opponent. Mr K. 

“Mr K? Aren’t you going a bit rough on him?” One of his peers from the sidelines asked. 

Lance could feel the forest green knife on his waist band feel heavier, willing him to to touch it, to wield it. He bounced on the balls of his feet, like springs ready to pounce. 

The moment Mr K turned his head around, even slightly, Lance roared. His fist diving first into his face. Only to be blocked his hand and be twisted behind his back. The stinging and ache of bone and muscle on the awkward position. 

Lance yelled as he hooked his legs around his and his perfect face met the ground. 

A single person cheered from the sidelines as the rest cringed at his grunts and squirms. 

“Well done, Lance. You did well. If not better than the rest of your peers. Though, that can’t be said to your grades!”

Lance wanted to flip him off so badly, it was almost uncontrollable. He groaned as Mr K let his weight off him and he managed to sit on his knees. 

A yellow tentacle landed on his shoulders, it almost burned on his skin. Lance could feel his temperature rise as the knife grew even heavier. The knife felt like a cat leaning to his palm as he gripped it discreetly. 

Sweat glistened on his brow as the alien continued to talk and talk, the words being muffled but the beating of his heart.  
The knife whistled in the air as he attacked. HIs hip turned towards his new opponent, his leg dragged on the ground. Only for his wrist to be held by his said opponent, a new sensation of rage rippled through his body. 

“Don’t growl, though that was smart” The alien said. HIs creep-pasta smile widening as he continued to talk while his peers watched on. 

Blue spheres searched for Mr K. Said person watched the exchange with his casual scowl on his face. But that was all the confirmation he needed. 

“You need to control your anger, Lance”

“You need to control your anger, Keith” Shiro said fro the other side of the Bridge. 

Lance sighed against his chair, his hand fiddling with the gun in his jacket pocket. It was an…old comfort. 

Keith rebutted, as the the doors swished open to the princess with Coran at her side. Lance knows that look, the others don’t have a clue. 

A new mission.

Lance instantly straightened. 

“We have a new mission, Paladins,” Allura started as the rest filled into the Bridge. “We’ve been asked for help of a rather new species.”

“New species?” Pidge questioned as she slumped into her chair. Allura hummed.

“Though, they are rather powerful species. They don’t have the knowledge that Voltron possesses, and would make strong allies for the fight against Zarkon”

“What are they?” Hunk voiced.

Allura’s emotionless face turned into what? confusion?. 

“I-I don’t know. What they are called” Crickets rang on the Bridge.

“How could you not know what they are!?” Keith loudly questioned, disbelief marring his feature. 

Allura sighed and proceeded to display a photo of the species. 

It was then that Lance’s stomach dropped to his feet. 

Hundred of fucking Kuro-sensei’s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Geek
> 
> https://biggeek2351.tumblr.com


	6. General Lance

“General Lance? Are you sure princess?” Shiro said from his chair on the Bridge. Shiro can’t believe his eyes. There on holographic screen was Lance. Their Blue Paladin. Alive and Well. But he couldn’t help to be a little sceptical. It has been years. Years since from his ‘death’, a death that has been proven wrong. 

“A hundred and twenty percent, Takashi” Allura said from her Altean pedestals. Four years can change a lot in a person. The scars prove it, and apparently also to Lance. Well, regarding to the white scar that was diagonal on his usually unblemished, tan skin. 

“Bullshit!” Keith yelled from his chair from behind him, his unchanged fringe bouncing from the movement. Years ago in the midst of mourning Lance’s death he cut off the mullet (too much heartache he said), it wasn’t a secret as his brother that Keith took it as hard as Hunk. Weeks before the ‘incident’ Keith was hopelessly pining after him in his room. It was funny then, more sad in the end.

“Matt said he met him a few movements ago. He’s the leader of an entire branch of resistance fighters. So I dug around and found this,” she gestured to the image, as grainy as it was. It was impressive. “They’re planning to combine both rebel branches to become one strong rebel force to defeat Lotor”

“When” Hunk shot up, hope blossomed in his eyes. His more muscled figure jumped up with different type of alien tribal tattoos on his biceps, The bandana yellow and brown, brown from using it as a bandage for Keith on that one mission.  
“In the next few vargas, there’s going to be a lot of security. Matt’s also said to be discreet, he fears that Lance would bounce if we were announced on our arrival”

“Why would he do that?”Pidge asked from her chair. Over the years, she’s grown into a young woman. Let her hair grow out and put into buns now and again, her glasses in a case in her room and replaced with a holographic screen.   
Allura’s short hair framed her face as she turned to Pidge, lost look in her eyes, “I don’t know”


	7. Shark Attack Victim

Blood flooded the ocean like a raging fog. The crystal blue quickly covering in sickening crimson. Teeth digging into his thigh, the surface drifting further and further away from his vision. He couldn’t see the sun’s spherical figure anymore. Lance’s abandoned surf board floating anonymously, a huge bite taken from the middle. 

Lance’s lungs burned. Exhausted rapidly overcoming his body as the fish below him continued to drag him down. Hope quickly dwindling. HIs blue eyes just tracing the wisps of red floating up wards, like a trail.

His restless struggling becoming sluggish. His heart beating in his ears. It’s getting colder.

Then the jaws let go. Teeth free from his thigh. Lance choked and instinctively started swimming upwards. His movements uncoordinated and what his swimming coach would call, sloppy. 

Fresh air filled his lungs as he broke to the surface. Ocean water spraying as he tried to keep himself afloat through the blinding pain. Blindly reaching and grabbing for his surf board. 

Grunting as his armed burned as he tried to reach the board, the board repeated slipping away. The screaming of his name as his brothers attempted to swim vigorously towards him on their own boards, fear evident as they spotted the ever-growing pool of crimson ocean water circling around him. 

His breath hitched as the same teeth dug into his shin and the screaming of his name was muffled as he went under again. The air in his lungs limited as his mind quickly went blurry, like a fog wrapped around his mind.   
It was colder, and getting colder. 

HIs heavy eye lids slid shut. The sound of the ocean current beating in his ears was the last thing he heard.

 

They were pink. The scars he meant. Rows of teeth marks on his right thigh and on his left shin. The teethmarks on his thigh partially hidden by his blue boxes and going along his hip. 

The three shark teeth on his necklace dangled on his chest. Creamy white and brown. Brown from his blood when the surgeons managed to scavenged in his legs. They said it was a miracle he didn’t have them amputated, only in need of extreme physical therapy. 

Yet, he still struggled. Sometimes, phantom pains would ache up legs, and leaving him in need of medication.   
Lance dreads when the next episode will happen. Like having tissue and muscle ripped off his body again. This time, without medication at arms reach. Experience it like that day at the beach with his brothers three years ago. 

It was only a matter of time. In space.


	8. Jedi Lance

Calloused fingers caressed the hard metal. Over every scratch, dent and button. His fingers all moved to the button that laid in the centre of the metal ‘stick’. His ocean blue eyes beheld the sight of his activated lightsaber, the neon blue illuminating his tan face within the darkness of his room. The familiar whir meeting his ears. It was a blessing.

Who was he now? Lance thought. He was no longer a Padawan, one without a master, nor, was he a Jedi. He was in-between. Furious beeping rang in his ears. It was his astromech’s chip, the one he managed to salvaged before his old, busted up X-wing sunk to the bottom of Earth’s arctic oceans. 

Even though his astromech’s chip was salvaged, doesn’t mean his body was too. Lance’s sphere astromech also sunk to the bottom of the ocean, though he did give him some (annoying) company in the mission before going to space, and now Voltron. 

“Yeah, will you shut up, I’m thinking” Lance whispered-yelled in to the pocket of his brown (may or may not be stolen) jacket. Oh, man does he wish he could walk straight up to Hunk or Pidge and ask to give his astromech a body from the blueprints his astromech had gotten from the mainframe of the resistance supercomputer. The astromech may be annoying but he was company and something from his previous life. But then that would raise questions, and he doesn’t want that. 

Lance can’t tell them that he is older than Altea. Older than Voltron. And may most likely be the last Jedi-slash-padawan in existence. 

Beeping rang through his ears again. They were softer.

“Showing our soft side are we?” Lance laughed as he de activated his lightsaber and placed in on the bed. The soft beeping stopped, then continued on a more furious note. If he have had body now, he would most likely have zapped him. 

Blue eyes returned to the chip resting in his breast pocket, the red blinking as fast as his astromech was ‘speaking’. Lance wasn’t a monster, he did construct a outer shell to protect the chip. 

A sudden siren filled the air with red flashing lights. 

“Paladin’s a Galra fleet are headed our way!” Lance groaned and stood up, removing his jacket. As he was about to dump it on his bed his astromech beeping rang again.

Lance sighed, “I know, I know. I’ll come back safe…I promise,” Even though his astromech was a dick, he was his best friend, and reminded him a little of Keith and that unnerved him. God, he wanted to fly an X-wing again, and have his astromech on the back, like old times. When he flew Earth’s aircraft, it felt like he was flying an eagle to a duck.

 

“May the force be with you” Lance whispered quickly as he dashed down the corridor. 

“May the force be with you, asshole” she said as she jumped into the aircraft with her master, her lightsaber on hand.

“May the force be with you too, bastard!” Lance called back, his singular braid going over his should with the movement. He could see his master’s face of disapproval behind him, but he didn’t care. He’ll make it up to her at some point.  
He was about to go to the Jedi temple, nothing could contain his excitement.

 

Lance skidded into a stop in the middle of the hallway before quickly turning back to his room. The automated door switched open and looked at the lightsaber resting on his bed. 

With a final decision he lifted a hand and pulled the lightsaber towards him. The familiar feeling of metal meeting his hand was so sickening, too familiar.

 

“Lancil!” She screamed. Last padawans of the universe, probably. The only two with knowledge of Jedi Knights in the resistance. 

The whirring and the soft gliding of his lightsaber against blasters stopped momentarily. His blue eyes catching the two figures further back. 

His best friend and Vader. Vader’s red lightsaber was through her chest. Horror, rage, fear tore into him like a tsunami.  
He lost his best friend that day.

 

And he felt so cold after the mission. He knew he took a taste of the dark side. It was a miracle he was even alive.  
Lance ran down the corridor again, stuffing the lightsaber under his shirt. You may never know when you’ll need it. 

He was a masterless Padawan.

He was a unofficial Jedi Knight.

He lost everything.

He doesn’t belong here. In this time.

Lancil of Coruscant was alone.

…

But not as alone as he thought.


	9. Car Crash Victim

Red and Blue.

Flashing, over and over again. Sirens. Ringing, echoing. People rushing, commands and orders going back and forth like a tennis match.

That’s what he remembers.

Not the screaming of his younger brother as he find his abdomen impaled by shrapnel. Not the empty face his father had went he was put into the black body bag. Not the figure of his bloody mother hanging over the steering wheel, glass peppering her body like glitter, unmoving. Not the body of his twin sister in the ambulance, the empty, quiet one.  
Somehow he thanked god, that he did not see that. Not seeing the cruel, cruel sight. Yet, he imagined that. All of that.   
That was what happened, and it’s pretty darn close to.

Lance watched as white tiles passed in his vision, blurring together making it look like a white sheet taped to the ceiling. The masked, blurry faces of doctors and nurses talking over each other, yelling orders to one another. The shrill ring echoing in the next room over moments later, indicating that his younger brother just died. Time of Death; 11:47pm.  
He remembers that clear as day. It’s when his brain clicked, as slow as it may be. He lost his father (his hero), mother (his comforter), his brother (a fan) and his sister (his other half). He remembers sobbing as they put on the gas mask. A mess of blood, tears and snot, Lance couldn’t remember the soothing, rushed voices of the nurses, never bothered trying the rememeber. 

He was thirteen. Too young. Too lost.

Too broken.

Over the next few years he struggled. Being diagnosed with Depression, PTSD and Panic Disorder, he was just a cocktail of mental illnesses. Getting into the Garrison by the skin of his teeth. His relatives only barely having enough money to get the medication that he needs.

Now space. God’s sick horrifying joke.

Then they met Hagger, and the witch got a hold of him. He relived everything, if not, opening his brain to see more detail and unlock what he has forgotten. 

The screaming of his mother as she collides with the car head on.

The sound of his father hit the gravel road because the seatbelt snapped, dead on impact.

The squishing sound of his brother when shrapnel dug into his abdomen, then his small screams of pain.

The cries of his sister as the car tumble over, crushing her legs and the pipe from the road sliding into her shoulder.

Then the pain of glass digging into his small body. Creating scars that will forever litter his body like a painful reminder.

Lance is now at square one. Ran out of medication, almost out of foundation. 

It can’t get much worst than this…could it?

Apparently, yes. Why? Because Shiro discovered the empty pill bottles.


	10. Meta!Lance

First, it was small. At the tender age of fourteen, he noticed he can withstand colder temperatures longer, how he never shivered anymore, how he felt sicker in hotter temperatures than when he felt nothing years prior. But this didn’t tip off anything, not yet.

He felt normal, nothing to worry about. The school was fine (the grades), his family was fine, that’s what mattered. Playing with his younger siblings, joining his older siblings on small adventures.

One hot summer day Lance and his older siblings travelled through the track behind his house on the way to the waterfall a kilometre away.

This soon turned into the worse day of his life.

As he ran into the lake wearing nothing but blue shorts, something miraculous, abnormal, inhuman, impossible happened.

Liquid turned solid.

A thin layer of ice coated the top of the water, branching out like a web. His fingers tipped blue, frozen in shock.

He could hear his sibling stop and stare, whether on him or the ever-growing tree of ice. Like the water, his body froze in shock. Breathing shallow, mind stilled.

The rest of the day rushed in front of him. His mind too slow to comprehend the events that occurred seconds, minutes, hours ago.

He could hear his parents fight, older siblings soothing each or trying to take him out of his frozen state. Younger siblings constantly asking what’s wrong, how to fix whatever happened, confused.

Even in this state, he notices how his fingers slowly changed back into a tan, how cold he feels, how absolutely scared, no petrified he truly is.

This is NOT normal.

Later that night he scrubbed himself raw in hot water or the hottest he could get it without hurting himself.

Steam rolled off him in waves. Heat meeting the coldness of his skin. Finishing when he accidentally froze the water, clogging it.

Stumbling into the fogged mirror he swore. He once perfectly brown hair now white at the roots. His brown eyes turning slowly into ocean blue. He’s changing and he doesn’t like it. He’s terrified.

His parents slowly accepted that he will not go back to the normal human boy he was, so they bought boxes of hair dye. Though he refused to wear gloves, not becoming a stupid biker that wears a stupid mullet.

Slowly over the years, he’s gotten control over it. Though he’s had some very close calls. The answer was controlling your emotions, one negative emotion and you light up like a Christmas tree, ice replacing the baubles.

The Mcclain family goal was to avoid any government confrontation. Afraid they’ll take him away, experiment on him, kill him. But he beat them to the punch, scaring them shitless when he applied for the Garrison.

As he left he still remember the faces of those that protected him, sheltered him, loved him even after what he is.

But now he was in space. Where what he needed was limited. His stress levels almost reaching the mental line. He’s not scared to admit he has had few mental breakdowns in his room, the room looked like an igloo.

This is war. You should never hold back. But he’s scared, terrified if they will reject him, be scared of him.

He’s a weapon. He knows it. Every little comment setting him on edge. When Keith said he had a grey hair when Hunk hugged him and commented he felt cold. Excuse after excuse.

Never let anyone in.

But they became his family. All their little quirks. He loved them. He’s on the fence. Tell or hide. He can’t take this anymore.

Lance picked his answer when a Galra soldier hurt Pidgeon. He let everything lose, he unleashed the power he collected over the years of hiding.

Let’s just say, it was awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> Big Geek
> 
> https://biggeek2351.tumblr.com


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